Finding Her Heart (Orki War Bride #2)

by Isoellen

  "My babies are dead. Benjere is dead. Everyone is dead—but you have been out there more than a week. I don't even know how long it has been. Two weeks? Three?"

  A young voice answered Bess' question, "Forever, we were born here."

  "It's mercenary men from the steel cities. Murderers. Raiders. Men who hit and take and care for nothing but themselves," a woman answered. The voice was familiar, but they were shut-up in the dark, and Annabell saw only shapes.

  "Did you do something? Annabell, did you go for help? How were you captured?" Bess asked again.

  "Raiders. It's raiders," a frightened voice warbled.

  "Mercenaries."

  "Lurann has been up there. My sister Brei went with her. Is Tressi still alive?"

  "Did you see my Shenno?"

  "Good wife Merry, did you see her?"

  "I saw the good wife baking bread, no one else," Annabell answered, feeling small.

  Bess spoke again. her voice rising, cracking, "Do you know what they did to your brother? Do you know what they did to me?"

  "You did do something wrong. You hid under your bed. You walked right into trouble, paying no attention to what was right in front of your nose. Stupid is as stupid does," Mama said in her ear.

  Annabell had no defense.

  She sat down where she’d stood. Her mouth opened and closed without giving answers. Thoughts lodged in her throat with all the grief and pain in the room and settled into despair.

  She had been so stupid.

  "There is no excuse for stupid," Mama agreed.

  These were evil men. They had come from outside, and now they would do what evil men did, and none of them had any means of protecting themselves from the inevitable. There was nothing to do. No way to keep the truth from settling on top of herself.

  *

  Loud crashing and banging got everyone's attention. A group of startled sheep, looking up as one at the gaping hole of the trapdoor. The raiders kept it open. They heard male voices often enough to know men were up there. No one wanted to be noticed by them. As it was, every shadow passing the hole pulled moans out of all of them like a vacuum, helpless to resist the fear.

  "All right, Boss wants his fresh pretty, and I want my taste of left-over cherry," one of them said. The light shaded their faces. Annabell saw nothing but the shapes of threatening men.

  "He said grab three," another shouted, too loud, too boisterous. Their actions were clownish and cruel exaggeration.

  "Just three and get pretty, he said," a different voice insisted. More than one unseen man, greedy with mean appetites, they carried the same lecherous accent. Annabell shrank back, and so did everyone else. They knew this was bad.

  A child said, "Where's my mama? Is she coming back?"

  Someone hushed the high voice, but the men heard it and thought it was hilarious. They burst into laughter and more ugly, foul language. A jeering face leaned over the hole above them and repeated in a high falsetto, "Where's my mama? Is she coming back?"

  Smacked back by a staff, another face appeared. "I want three lovely ladies. You choose or I choose, and I'm choosing the last of the untouched ones."

  A ripple went through the surrounding women. Untouched ones? Did he mean the girls? As far as Annabell could tell there were no unmarried women around her. This, this she could do. Stepping forward before she could stop herself, she stepped into the square of light and looked up.

  "You ain't pretty. And you look too old to be untouched. Get someone else."

  Her throbbing face agreed with him. She had no idea what she looked like. But the blow that caught her must have left an impressive rainbow of colors.

  She thought she heard someone say, "Woe."

  Another face appeared to look at her—the one who had made fun of the child. Face red with drink, creased and dirty from lack of washing. "Well, if her face wasn't swelled up, this one looks like she might fit the order! Bacsh, are you even looking at her tits?"

  "Maybe she will be better looking tomorrow, but Boss has been harping on pretty. And I haven't seen so much pretty since we scored in that Widow's House in Riley. Remember that? Even the cheap ones were fine. Get back, you. I want someone else. Hurry up."

  "Take me. If you give me a cold rag, the swelling will go down," she told them. The idea of one of the young girls, the children in the group, having to go up that step ladder was unconscionable. She didn't know who was still down here, but she couldn't let that happen.

  "Eager, are you? Want some fresh meat? You want meat, I got meat," red face boasted.

  "Bitch, I said get back. Alright, I'm coming down."

  "We are coming," a woman screamed out. "Here. Here, we have three." There was a scuffle behind Annabell as the villagers behind her tried to decide who would go. Arguing. Crying.

  Bess was shoved out from the group. Dragged by two others, Annabell's sister-by-marriage cried and begged and tried to climb over the top of the others to avoid having to go up those stairs. But whatever her ordeal, the woman was known for her soft beauty, and she had not lost it. Her lips were almost red in a pale, tear-stained face, and her eyes shone. "You'll go before my daughter does, Bess. I'm sorry, but you'll go."

  It was ugly. These raiders made them turn on each other, reduced them to survival in the worst kind of way. They wounded the village deeper with just with blade and gun.

  "Where has that beauty been? Oh, look at that pretty skin!" Red face reached down, lifting Bess out, while the other assessed the other two like a farmer taking the measurements of a new pig.

  Fighting like a wildcat, Bess started screaming and trying to get away. Red face shook her once that did something that cut off her scream abruptly. Annabell could hear them talking as they dragged them away.

  They were picking women like fish in a barrel at a children's party. "They will be back, won't they, what are we going to do?"

  "What is there to do?" another moaned.

  Annabell saw three young girls among those remaining. Two clear-faced, untouched girls and one, who, like Annabell had taken a blow to the face. She stood a little off to the side, no mother guarding her. Her eyes vacant. They were not the prettiest of girls, but the raiders wanted young and fresh. These children represented that.

  *

  The next night, five were chosen. Annabell realized that one of them was the young orphan girl her brother had hired, locked up with her the whole time. Trapped without food or water, Annabell had no strength in her limb and could barely hold onto reality. Seeing the girl's face reminded her where she was, what had happened, the deaths, and she acted out in a burst of anger, clawing at the hands that grabbed at her, trying to escape. It had no effect at all.

  Annabell wasn't sure she resisted. Maybe it was all an illusion in her head.

  She and the other four women were taken to the side of the bakehouse. "You can drink something. Eat quick. And get inside and do what women do. I'm watching you," a raider directed, pushing them in front of the big water barrels.

  There were foreign men everywhere. Bigger, thicker than the village men, armed and sneering, they moved in and out of the small back door of the Gathering Lodge to the bakehouse and nearby buildings. Annabell saw two men drag an unconscious woman by the arms out the door of the lodge and across the road, into a cottage that belonged to the baker’s family. When she took a step in that direction, another man waved at her with the long stick of his weapon, keeping her from following.

  Using the bake house as their kitchen, the raiders stacked stolen food haphazardly everywhere—inside, outside, along the walls, and on a long table. Incongruous with the insane chaos was the perfectly mundane and real smell of cooking meat and baking bread. Annabell's mouth watered, reminding her she was still alive.

  A deep laugh made her turn. A shirtless man sat on a chair at the front corner of the building, a curvy blonde woman on his lap. Annabell's head snapped around to look at her.

  Was it?

  It was Lurann, Kejere's wife.

&n
bsp; The raider scum shouted, "Find more flour. Make some more of that good, white bread. Get some more jars of those sweet things, the men like those."

  Annabell couldn't look in that direction. His hands were on Lurann, squeezing, pinching.

  A village woman stumbled out of the back door of the lodge, her breasts free of her top, her face flushed red in a wild halo of her curly hair. Kate, the seamstress. To the nearest man, she said, "Your boss wants more food and those bottles you found today."

  "Well, go and get some!" he yelled. His hand sank down into Lurann's top, squeezing as his lips slobbered at her neck.

  Lurann squealed.

  He laughed as he stood, pushing her away at the same time, "You better go on in and help."

  Hand at her neck where the man had his mouth, Lurann stood still for just a moment, breathing deep.

  Annabell saw the blood where he had bitten her. And watched, confused, as Lurann turned back to the drunken man, her eye's big and shiny, and gave him an almost-smile that froze him where he stood. His eyes ran over her from head to foot, as if he'd not seen her before.

  The exchange looked like a flirtation.

  When Lurann turned back, she noticed Annabell standing there. "Annabell. Kejere was so worried."

  "Everyone is dead." Annabell didn't know what else to say.

  "Who gave you permission to stop and chat, woman? If you are getting food for Boss, then go get food. And you? If you aren't going to eat, then you need to get in the kitchen and do what Dag tells you. You aren't here to just stand around. Get moving." The man next to the lodge door interrupted.

  He had a dangerous-looking weapon slung across his chest. Annabell had never seen a gun firsthand, but she was sure that thing, with its hand stock and barrel end, must be the first. Of average height and size, with skin that looked yellowed in the flicker of the evening lamps, the stranger had a human shape and face, but the corruption of his murderous attitude transformed him into a monster. Surrounded by monsters and their victims, she could not get her head clear enough to figure out what to do about it.

  "What are you going to do, Annabell Roe?" Mama demanded.

  Before Annabell finished getting food and water, Lurann returned from the Gathering Lodge to get more food. She went right to Annabell. "What happened to your face? Have they raped you? Never mind."

  She stood close, reached for Annabell, grabbed the back of her head with her right hand and put her fingers over Annabell's nose with her right. "Be quiet while I do this. I don't have much time. You don't want their attention."

  Annabell opened her mouth to ask but Lurann put her in a vice of pain, pushing on the bruised, sore flesh of her nose. It hurt. Stars bursting in her vision. Opening her mouth to protest, Lurann kicked her in the knee, still pushing, her whisper harsh. "Be quiet!"

  Blackness clouding the edges of her vision, Annabell tried to push the blonde away. But Lurann had finished. She stepped back, flashing a grim smile, her eyes on the fresh blood dripping down to Annabell's chin. "That will serve you well. And I think I've set it too. Boss is serious about getting all the women first and only taking pretty. And once he has had his run, he tosses you to his wolves. I've seen four women die. Kejere told me to take care of you. That is the best I can do."

  Then she was turning, going for another tray to take into the Gathering Lodge.

  The men from the steel cities appeared indolent and reckless, but if she took a step in the wrong direction, one of them saw it. Returning her daring with a smirking mockery, letting her know she was seen. They let her eat and drink and made her use one of the buckets they'd lined up at the end of the lodge to make waste in. Then, because she wasn't one of the "pretty," they set her to work at one of the tables, sorting out edible food from things they had pulled from the houses.

  Chapter 5

  What Doesn't Kill You Makes You Stronger

  Entering the Gathering Lodge with the roasted meat, her arms shaking with the weight of the plate, Annabell did her best to dodge drunken men. They had been somewhere, had discovered a hard-fermented liquor that the town council in Righteous Way forbid its citizens.

  "Intemperance leads to evil." Mama’s voice said.

  "These men were evil before they got any alcohol. At least it has made them slow and dumb," Annabell whispered under her breath. The truth felt like a bit of rebellion, and about all she could manage.

  They didn’t care that she could barely stand, that she’d was too ill with nerves to swallow much more than a few bites and drink what clean water she could get her hands on. They didn't care that she was running on her last reserve. It was one step after the other. Don't be noticed. Keep moving.

  Setting her burden down, she tripped over an outstretched leg, purposely set to make her fall. The man who did it laughed, putting his hands on her waist to pull her to him. The more drunk they were, the funnier they thought this game. Before she could twist away, a sound pierced the room. A rising howl, cutting through drunken laugher and craven behavior.

  Instantly recognizable.

  Annabell felt it ring between her ears. A thinner, higher-pitched sound shrieked after it. The human reaction. An alarm. It lasted but a heartbeat before suddenly stopping. Silent.

  Quiet descended, the startling noises affecting everyone. The cruel arrogance of the invaders drained out of their faces, replaced by caution. Annabell recognized that first howl, but the second must have been their sentry's sound. Did they know what was coming for them?

  For the first time in days, Annabell felt a smile open on her lips, hurting her cheeks, her nose, shooting pain to the back of her head. Grinning wider, she embraced it. She was alive. Still alive.

  Retribution was coming.

  The people around her burst into action. Searched for their weapons. Shook their heads to clear them of the drunkenness.

  "They will kill everyone," a woman said into the quiet.

  They would save them, Annabell wanted to shout. The people of the village had done nothing but wake up alive to the discovery that their world had turned to blood and horror at the hands of strangers. None of them had trespassed on the treaty with the Orki Originals. Righteous was a good town that taught all the laws to their children. No one here dared break the law.

  The penalty was too high.

  Now these men from the Steel Cities, these murderers from the world, they would pay the price of their wrongdoing. The sound of their end was in the howling of the Orki beasts cutting through the night like a blade. These foolish men hadn't come to the valley through the mountains. They had come across land and broken Orki Peace law.

  The call of the Orki war beasts was close. A back-and-forth communication surrounding the lodge. It sounded like a full hunting party.

  Most of the men were in the hall. The celebration tables were filled with stinking raiders. All of them sitting up, sobering up quickly, the merriment draining from their faces.

  The man who had touched her stood, weaving on his feet.

  "Drunkenness is nothing but voluntary stupidity," Mama said in his direction.

  The one called Boss grabbed the closest woman, Lurann, shoving her hard in the direction of the door facing the town square. He glanced behind him at the other exit. But the sounds of war beasts besieged them from all directions.

  "Open it, beg for mercy. Tell them we want to talk," Boss told Lurann.

  Lurann visibly paled at the order. Annabell could hear the tearful anxiety in her voice. "Don't. I can't. They'll kill me. You broke the peace. They'll kill me."

  "Stupid bitch. Orkis only kill women with their dicks. You'll be fine. Open it."

  How had these men not known what breaking their law would mean? Had he not believed it? The man appeared as terrified as Lurann. Boss poked at her with his sharp tooth-like weapon until she cried out, cut, blood blooming on her clothing. "Open. It."

  Forced to obey, Lurann threw open the big door. "Please. Please! They want to talk. They want to avolk! Avolk!" she shouted the Orkish in
to the night.

  Like a giant moving into the room, a creature ducked through the doorway, every footstep a heavy noise on the wood flooring. There was an animal growling behind him. Annabell clearly saw the war beast, a big fierce female at his back.

  Shirtless, wearing the common Orki layered fur and leather apron-sized loincloth, leather boots up to his knees, the Original entered the Gathering Lodge and took up all the space and air. An impressive creature by any estimation. This one carried a massive ax.

  All eyes on the Orki, Annabell moved in Lurann's direction. This would end in death, but not Lurann's or any of the women. They wanted to be out of the way, but Annabell also wanted to see it. The Orki would make the murderers pay for what they had done.